


my boy loves his friends, like i love my split ends (and by that i mean he cuts 'em off)

by hydrangeasheart



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempted at least, Childhood Friends, Gen, Manipulation, Mild Gore, Non-Consensual Haircuts, Not Really Character Death, because respawning n all, platonic heartbreak, the sleepy bois are together but that does not mean it's all good, this is more about the Vibes than the plot don't think abt it, this is not super canon compliant but do i care? no, tommy gets to go feral. it runs in the family, we are all hate c!dream, which sounds really bad but it's the premise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangeasheart/pseuds/hydrangeasheart
Summary: "Give Tommy back," he starts, falsely kind, "and I won't cut your hair."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit
Comments: 26
Kudos: 811





	my boy loves his friends, like i love my split ends (and by that i mean he cuts 'em off)

**Author's Note:**

> yesterday i gave you sad fluff, today i give you painful angst
> 
> don't think too hard about any of this the idea just gripped me like a madman and would not leave me alone. im kinda mad about it because i have like 5 other wips but what can you do
> 
> title from my boy by billie eilish. i have no explanation the vibes just lead me there
> 
> i bet you can't guess who my favorite to write is /j

The second person to break Technoblade's heart is Dream.

The first one had been Wilbur-- of course it was Wilbur. He called him a monster and threatened to send him away and he had panicked, practically falling to his knees and begging for him to not do that to him. It was cruel; too cruel. Nobody can hurt you like the older brother who knows every one of your insecurities, because you yourself spilled them to him. 

To be fair, he had almost killed him, so. Context makes it... slightly less bad.

But Dream does that and worse.

When he gets home, he stares at himself in the mirror in the entryway. His eye is bruised and there's another on his jaw. His nose is bloody.

One side of his hair is shorter than the other.

Dream cut his fucking _hair_. On purpose. 

"Techno?" Tommy's voice asks when he drifts through the living room, a ghost. "Are you okay?" 

He nods. He drifts to the bathroom. Washes his face, his hands, which are smeared with dirt and Dream's blood. 

He takes out a pair of scissors-- the ones Wilbur uses to give them all haircuts-- from the drawer and evens up his hair. 

When he's done, the heavy pink strands come up to his shoulder blades. It was to his waist before, the product of not getting a major haircut since he was eight.

He's fourteen now and everything _hurts_.

He goes to his bed and curls up under the blankets.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, shivering even though he's warm. He doesn't cry, but his heart hurts so bad he wishes he could.   
The sun sets. 

Wilbur isn't home. He hasn't been home in a week, off with some friend or another. Dad's off... doing something. He told them this morning, but in all honestly, he has a hard time paying attention that early.

Tommy's in the living room, alone. As the second oldest, Techno should probably go and make sure he's okay. But he just keeps staring at the window and trying to summon one fucking tear. 

...

After a while, Tommy comes in. He crawls into Techno's bed, and curls up against his chest. Instinctively, he hugs him closer. 

"Are you okay?" his little brother asks. "You were bleeding earlier. And..." he looks up with tired, too-old-for-his-age eyes. "You cut your hair."

Techno can't tell him. Can't spill the heartbreak he feels. Can't tell him that Dream had held him still by the front of his shirt and cut his hair with a knife for the express purpose of hurting him emotionally. Going for a man's pride is a good plan, admittedly.

Not to Tommy, who's a child and can't handle that kind of pain.

"I had a fight with Dream," he explains quietly. It's accurate enough. "He... he cut my hair."

Tommy sits up like he was shocked, eyes wide in anger. "What?! He cut your hair?!" He looks hurt on his behalf. "You-- you love your hair, Tech, why would he cut your hair?"

Oh, that hurts. Because they both knew that Dream _knew_. Knew how much he loved his hair, loved everything about it.

Tears finally prick his eyes. "I don't know," he mumbles. "He was mad at me, I guess."

"But that's mean!" He says, obviously seething. "You don't break people's things when you're mad, and you don't do stuff like cut their hair!"

The tears start pouring and he brings Tommy back down for a hug, burying his face in his hair. Of course, he hugs him back and pats his head, shushing him like Wilbur does when either of them cry. "Shh, it's okay," he says. "I'm sorry you got into a fight. It's okay."

The door opens in the living room, and in only moments Phil's standing in the doorway, brows furrowed as he looks the two of them over. "What happened?"

"Tech and Dream got into a fight," Tommy explains, surprisingly mature. "Dream cut his hair."

Techno cries harder at the reminder. 

-

Eight years later, Technoblade crowds Tommy into the house behind them as Dream approaches. On the surface, he looks calm as ever, but the sight of his friend-turned-foe makes old wounds ache.

His hair, finally at his waist again-- actually, it's a bit below it now-- is braided down his back. He has the worst feeling that he knows what will happen.

He has bigger priorities, though. "Tommy, go inside, stay out of the fight," he insists sharply. "No matter what he does, you _stay inside_. Got it?"

"Yeah," Tommy says quietly. "I'll stay inside."

And the door closes, locks behind them. 

Techno stands up straighter, hands wrapped around his axe's handle. "Dream," he calls as he approaches.

"Technoblade," he acknowledges, voice oddly cool. "I really don't want to have to fight you. Just let Tommy come with me." 

He doesn't hesitate with his reply. "Over my dead body." 

"That can be arranged." 

The fight is harsh, even by their standards. He's fought Dream more times than he can count, but he must have been holding back. Blood spills within seconds (from Dream's own arm, soaking his coat sleeve and splashing onto his mask) and the snow turns red.

He gets shoved to his knees in the bloody snow, the cold soaking through his pants, freezing his skin. His crown is knocked to the ground (there's a second of instinctual rage at the loss of his gold, only quelled by his better nature) and Dream's hand seizes his braid. His sword slides underneath it, against the back of his neck.

"Give Tommy back," he starts, falsely kind, "and I won't cut your hair."

Techno glares up at him through his bangs, and his mouth opens in a snarl. "No chance."

The sword tugs at the strands as Dream cuts through his hair, starting just below the top of his braid. The few inches of braided hair fall apart and the rest of the pink strands are tossed to the snow.

The sword caught his ear, too-- blood drips from the cut just below one of his earrings, down the shell of his ear, down his neck. It soaks into his blue cloak.

The freed hair falls around his face, sticks to the blood. It's well above his shoulders.

He can't help it. He chokes on a sob and raises one hand to brush through the strands. It's really gone. He feels too light.

"You're still stubborn, eh, pig?" Dream's tone is almost friendly, almost like those forever-ago days when they were friends. Like it's a game. Like he should laugh.

It hurts. It hurts so badly his vision gets blurry, or maybe that's just the tears.

Footsteps on the wood of the front steps. An angry shriek, something nearly animalistic, and then Dream's body is splayed out on the snow, chest bloodied.

Techno looks up, still on his knees. He feels oddly frozen, not just from the snow. He's almost shell-shocked.

Tommy is standing next to him, sword clutched in his grasp, chest heaving in panic. His hand-me-down red cape hangs from his hunched shoulders, and his blue eyes flash like diamonds, cold and dangerous. "Get-- away-- from us," he gasps out. "Leave me alone. Leave him alone."

Dream pushes himself up on a forearm, an elbow. His mask is crooked and he can see his mouth, blood on his teeth. "Tommy," he says soft, choked. "Why would you do that?"

"No, shut up, you can't do that to me anymore," he snaps. "You deserve it. You deserve death."

And Techno sees a little bit too much of himself, of Wilbur, of _Phil_ , in the manic flash of Tommy's blue eyes as he places a foot on Dream's chest, and uses his sword to cut off his head. 

The severed head falls back onto the ground before his body does. Tommy kicks it away and it falls back into the snow with a soft sound. 

The blood is crimson and it stains the snow. Techno manages to get up to his feet. 

"I told you to stay inside," he says hollowly. 

All the rage seems to drain from Tommy's body. He slumps, the tip of his sword sinking into the snow. "I know," he says. "But-- I remembered last time. How much it hurt you. And... he can't keep getting away with that kind of thing." 

He has to agree, humming the approval. Dream managed to cut him in a few places, other than his ear-- there's a slash down his arm, a small cut on his chin. There's an ache in his stomach, from a kick, that'll be one hell of a bruise. Nothing feels broken, at least. Small mercies; Techno can't stay down long enough for ribs to heal.

"Lets go inside," he says. He grabs his shorn hair from the ground, and he throws it into the fireplace when they get inside. The flames eat it up, blue against the pink. He sits in front of it, watches it burn. There's symbolism in there, somewhere, he's sure.

Tommy brings over blankets, bandages, potions. He lets him tend to him. He doesn't protest or complain when he cleans his wounds, or when he places his glasses on his face so he can see better. He just lets it happen.

When Phil comes in, it's obvious he's seen the blood. Dream's body might still be there-- he's never followed the rules of respawning like the rest of them. But he doesn't comment on it. He exchanges greetings with them while he puts on the kettle, stows away the supplies he gathered.

Wilbur follows him, floating behind him with a confused, almost innocent expression on his semi-transparent face. He's seen it too, then. But he doesn't comment on it either, simply taking a place near them on the floor and watching them curiously.

Tommy wraps the slash on his arm while he sips at a healing potion. The fire is a smolder and he doesn't have the energy to grab the poker and stoke it.

"He's not gone," Tommy says unprompted. "He'll come back."

Techno raises his brows, staring at the glowing embers in the fireplace. "And you'll kill him again, I'm sure."

"Absolutely," his voice is cool, none of his childlike innocence showing through. He doesn't sound sixteen. "He deserves it, I meant that."

He touches his shortened hair. "He does." 

**Author's Note:**

> you wanna follow me on tumblr SO bad. you wanna follow @slayerofboys SO BAD.


End file.
